#lechery
Pie for an ear
Pie for a whistle, to come
Pie for a craven side of a liberty's near
Pie for a wish in the watch, of home
Pulling the talk, no the what the ****
Of grace to step forward, no man has a better plan
Sour old willful, and seeking stink, the eye to pluck
A hardy share of truth from the side of your face, where sincerity can
Roles of the ****** with a care
Suggestion is ours, for a lank memory, alive in the known
Truer to **** the pie off, for we take the time to fare
The skill's of another mind, with the very thoughts of oblivion?
Wages we never collected, but gave freely
Since we were the coping half, of a clock in the mission of a lifetime
Can a meager sword of conscience, stand to wishes we found, in the ear
Speed to a special lip, and tongue of ecstasy that has your crime
Water, what ask's tomorrow eaches reason?
Pain and the train of thought that made us
Is a wholly different idea, is knowing all in season
When none is ours, for a colossal clash with the written word, thus
Jan 7
Jan 7, 2026 at 11:26 AM UTC
when the sun fears enough to cower over
the moon with its knees and
is kissing the tender
glass of the mirror
that reflects one side,
neptune weeps like a baby
birthed from a place unknown
yet needy all the same.
with that,
my eyes are forced open
my hands to take its waist,
its apple that was once
part of a tree.
heat sears me like stigma
yet this is different:
a paradox that speaks
not in tongues of abuse
or nationalism of one's mind.
instead,
this new sensation
is accompanied by
a high-pitched falsetto
as if feeling every paper cut
**** into his mind,
his flesh of lost innocence.
then, when reaching out
to touch this "him",
this hymn i've found,
his skeletal oblivion makes itself known.
- eozyoh. 8.12.2017. 12:42 am
Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 12:26 PM UTC
*I remember kissing her lips
but it wasn't the ones on her face*
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 12:02 AM UTC
Her libidinous eyes like dark beetles
circled his face in ***** adoration,
numbing pain chocking his voice
he told her the crushing truth,
he was a werewolf, without redemption,
she didn't stir, was jubilant in spreading darkness
a blush, still visible made her look more eager
"I was hoping against hope, though too suave looking,
you would be one, just take me, I am your vampire"
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC